Foyet the Failure
by United Profilers
Summary: Before "100". Foyet tries to break into Hotch's home to get rid of him and his family, but the night doesn't go as planned.


**I do not own Criminal Minds.**

**Rated T for language.**

"Time for bed, Jack."

Aaron Hotchner clicked off the TV, receiving a protest from his son. The BAU leader would have given in if it wasn't a school night.

Gathering the pouting yet sleepy boy in his arms, Hotch began the short journey to his son's bedroom while Hailey went to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

**(Spencer Reid!)**

George "The Reaper" Foyet reached for his pocket and pulled out a small wrinkled up note. Confirming that the address he had matched the one scribbled on the piece of paper, he grinned while he put it back and picked up the ladder he brought with him as he crept towards the house.

The Reaper had it all planned out. He would kill Hotchner's wife and son first and make him suffer before killing him too.

Foyet studied the structure as he slowly advanced upon it. He only saw lights on downstairs, while all of upstairs was entirely dark. Spotting an open window, he felt it was a good time to break in. He carefully placed the ladder against the side of the house and quietly climbed up.

As he ascended, he heard a door open and froze. Taking advantage of the darkness, he continued until he reached the window and peeked through.

The crazed serial killer watched as Hotchner carried his son to bed and tucked him in. He would have just leaped in now, but that wouldn't be according to plan. He gripped the windowsill with black gloved hands as he waited impatiently for Hotchner to leave.

Foyet's eyes widened when Aaron moved towards the window. Fearing of getting caught, he held his breath when the window suddenly crushed his fingers.

"Son of a-!" He cursed quietly, holding back a scream of agony. Even with gloves on it still hurt like hell. The unsub tried desperately to pull his flattened appendages free but they were still stuck. Pulling only made it hurt even more.

The Reaper clenched his teeth as he tried to ignore the pain. He heard Jack tell his father he wanted a bedtime story. Three minutes felt like three hours when Jack finally fell asleep and Hotch left the room, shutting the door behind him.

_Now's my chance._ Foyet thought with a smile. _First to off his bastard son._

He went to open the window but it wouldn't budge.

"Goddamn it." He cursed when he figured the window was locked. His aching fingers still trapped underneath it.

Realizing there was only one way out of this, the serial killer relentlessly jerked and tugged until he finally got free. The ladder tipped and he fell backwards.

Foyet screamed as he plummeted downwards. He crashed into a tree and stopped but not before a branch smacked his groin. The ladder continued to the ground and the tree branch finally gave in to his weight. The unsub landed on the ladder and now his back hurt.

The Reaper groaned as he got to his feet, hoping nobody had heard him. Abandoning the ladder, he limped over to the backyard and spotted Hailey in the kitchen. He hurried over to a rather large trash can. Wincing in pain, he crammed himself inside, pulling the lid over it.

Hailey wrinkled her nose when she retrieved the garbage out from under the sink. It smelled horrible. She carried it out the backdoor and made a beeline towards the trash can.

Foyet heard the door open and someone approaching. He fiddled with his knife anxiously. As soon as the lid opened, he would...

The serial killer didn't have a chance when candy wrappers, used gum, spoiled food and various other junk rained down on him. He refrained from crying out in disgust once he was completely buried.

Hailey put the lid back and retreated back to the house. Foyet rose up and spit something unmentionable out of his mouth. He growled as he removed himself from the stench. Not only was he in pain, now he stunk.

Muttering under his breath, he scanned around the house for another way in without being seen. Maybe he'd try a downstairs window. The unsub searched until he found one that was mostly dark inside. There was a small garden outside near the window but he didn't care. Unfortunately, the night sky made it difficult to see and he wasn't aware of the rake lying on the ground until he stepped on it. Flinging up, the tool smacked him in the nose. Foyet stumbled back, he tripped and fell in mud puddle.

"Ugh." He groaned as he got up. He ran a hand over his nose to make sure it wasn't bleeding. He was going to try another window. Foyet saw a police car coming down the road, realizing he looked too shady for the cop to ignore him, he jumped into some bushes against the front of the house without thinking. The police car drove by without incident, the serial killer quickly jumped out from the prickly rose bushes and lied down on Hotchner's front yard for a minute.

This was almost more trouble than it was worth. Almost.

He was running out of options. He needed some way to get inside, but it was proving harder than anticipated. He decided to scout around the house again when he felt something in his pants. Foyet reached in and pulled out a banana peel. He carelessly dropped the unwanted thing on the ground not bothering to look where it landed.

He moved forward, stepping right on the banana peel he'd just dropped. The unsub yelled in surprise as he fell backwards for the umpteenth time tonight. Grunting as he landed ungracefully on the concrete of the walkway. Stars danced around his eyes, or was that from the sky?

By now he was getting fed up. Maybe he should just break through the door and shoot them all. Yeah, that could work. Agent Hotchner and his family wouldn't know what hit them, though his team would, but that didn't matter. At least his mission would be complete. Maybe once he was finished with Aaron, and he managed to avoid getting captured, he would go after his team too, like Agent Derek or that dark haired woman, or maybe even that skinny, nerdy kid, Spencer what's-his-name.

Foyet's thoughts were interrupted when he heard fierce growling of a dog. A _big _dog.

With wide eyes, the unsub dared to look to his right where he saw the largest dog he'd ever seen. The dog's teeth were bared and it's back was hunched over. He'd forgotten entirely about his knife and gun as well as his ladder.

"Screw this." He cursed as he took off running, the dog giving chase. Racing across Hotch's yard, the serial killer screamed, waving his arms wildly down the street.

**(Spencer Reid!)**

The Reaper sighed as he neared a dumpster, where he disposed of the knife and gun he never got to use. He was in pain, he smelled, he was dirty, his head hurt and now his clothes were mutilated to shreds.

Foyet made his way home where he showered, slipped into some more comfortable clothing, took a couple aspirin and went to bed.

**The End!**


End file.
